The Prophecy of Voldemort
by Maiden of the Cry
Summary: He did not immediately die. Instead, he erupted into flames. His eyes changed from blood red to transparent white. Voldemort's mouth opened: Be forewarned of troubled times,The prodigal son returns to bear, An evil within he must acknowledge,The battle will come at summer solstice. "Way to be a drama queen." Sirius muttered to a snickering James. The Order glared at the duo.


**Chapter One: A Meeting Between Old Friends**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything you recognize. For future disclaimers, please refer to this chapter.

_"Stay back! Don't!" the wheezing man cried. _

_ He was covered in blood and grime, a fatal wound was gaping at his side, and his right leg was twisted at a grotesque angle that made it difficult to crawl away from her. Following him was a woman of indeterminable age with sharp amethyst eyes that nearly glowed in the dark alley and blond hair so pale it looked silver under the light of the moon. She easily caught up with the man. The heels of her boots clicked against the cobblestone, each one like the final nail in a coffin._

_"Please!" he begged again. The girl regarded him with a bored look as she drew her sword. _

_"Why are you doing this?" he asked, for the first time sounding angry. _

_"I loved you and you're just going to throw it all away?!" The girl tilted her head to the side and spoke for the first time since the chase had begun._

"_I've got nothing against you, Adam. But did you really think I would choose you over the Council?" _

_ He was slowly getting up though he continued to clutch at the wound on his side. He got onto his knees and dared her to make a move. "You monster, YOU BITCH! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO M-"_

_ With a dull thud his head fell to the ground. She gazed at the sickening sight of the headless body still on its knees. She didn't bother covering her tracks. 'Let the Council worry about that.' she thought as she faded into the night._

Dark green eyes still clouded with sleep opened. The dreams had become a nightly routine, always bringing back one painful memory after another. He got up and stretched his aching body, all traces of sleep gone now. He showered quickly and headed downstairs.

"Good morning." The innkeeper greeted him as he set down a light breakfast of tea and toast. He smiled gratefully at him and began eating.

He continued to mull the dream over in his head. It had barely been a month since he had been thrust into this world. Everything was still so fresh in his mind; the blood, the paranoia, the anger, and confusion. Confusion over this world, his place in it, and the lack of direction and purpose in his life. He unclenched his fist and a small flame appeared in his hand. He stared into its depths. He had outlived his usefulness. There was no war here. For the first time in a long time, he could concentrate on something he wanted. But on what? Any selfish thoughts of future aspirations and dreams had been beaten out of him. And how many times had he followed this same train of thought that concluded without an answer? The problem was that he didn't know _what_ he wanted which left a very weary Harry Potter to debate on the merits of drinking this early in the morning.

"Quite a neat trick you've got there." Twinkling blue eyes were watching him from the kind face of a very familiar old man dressed in robes scattered with animated silver shooting stars.

He shrugged and looked out the window. It was a sunny day in August. To his annoyance, the man sat down.

"I have never seen you around here." the old man began.

"Not from here" he replied back.

"Foreigner eh?"

"You could say that."

"What brings you to England?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"I would be delighted to hear it."

"My mother told me not to talk to strangers."

"Surely we have held a conversation long enough to qualify as acquaintances, yes?"

"No."

"I am Albus Dumbledore. Who might you be?"

"No one you know."

"Your name is?"

"Not your business."

"You seem very young to be traveling here alone."

"Oh?"

"What I mean to say is that perhaps you may have companions around here as well. I would certainly love to meet them. Any idea where they would be?"

"Not one."

"I failed to hear your name, what was it again?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Albus hesitated, debating on what he should say next. He leaned forward. "You cannot blame me for being a little suspicious. It has been quite a while since we have seen the likes of such tranquility and prosperity in our world and I am adamant about keeping it that way."

"I come in peace." he said in a bored voice while privately thinking that the old man's method was too obvious to lend any credence to his heavy statement.

Albus appeared, for whatever reason, content for now and stood.

"Well I have dawdled too long and I must be on my way. Only have a few weeks before the school year begins. Goodness knows I need to find a new teacher before the start of term. In fact, I am on my way to an interview right now! It was pleasant meeting you, Mr…?

The young man merely raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, very well. Tyke." he grumbled.

"Geezer" the other muttered.

Albus laughed as he left. The man with the green eyes couldn't help the smile that crept up as he watched the old man leave. It felt oddly comforting to be in Dumledore's familiar presence. He leaned back, watching the crowds in the street outside.


End file.
